From TODAY producer Vivian Fel
I am a first generation American. A Hispanic-American if you will.
Notice the hyphen.
With my light skin, hazel eyes and brown hair you wouldn't know it right off the bat. My name Vivian doesn't give it away either as my parents officially dropped the last "a" so it would sound more American, another way to assimilate after immigrating to Miami Beach from Buenos Aires. (Certain friends still call me Viviana because they know I secretly prefer it!)
I'll admit that my preference for the Spanish version of my name is so that in some way, I would have an instant giveaway about who I am or a quick way to bond with someone who is also Hispanic. The truth is though, that the dangling "a" still doesn't solve a personal quest for identity, nor would it reveal all that I am. And I do know who I am in terms of my values and what is important to me. It is this life on the hyphen, this grey yet colorful place between the Hispanic and the American that can be a little harder to define.
When Kerry Sanders interviewed University of Miami Professor Dr. Michelle Gonzalez
Maldonado for our piece on Hispanic influence on pop culture, she mentioned how author and poet Gustavo Perez Firmat wrote a book on this very subject. He called it "Life on the Hyphen: The Cuban-American way."
Lin-Manuel Miranda, who wrote the Tony-award winning play, "In the Heights," referred to it as living in the margins.
"We all come from somewhere," he said. "That's the American story. And my parents were both born in Puerto Rico. I grew up here, so what does it mean to be Puerto Rican, if you don't live in Puerto Rico?"
And there it was. Listening to their interviews made me realize that there are a whole lot of us out there trying to figure out the in between. I am born, raised and educated in America, but my ties to Hispanic culture are undeniable. The Latin warmth and strong family values of South America are rooted deeply within me.
Not to mention that Latin spirit. I go salsa dancing twice a week here in New York City. I know the difference between a cumbia from Colombia and a bachata from the Dominican Republic. And I love that. On the other hand, I can also swing dance and have even tried the two-step.
The product of two cultures, double the dances.
And so to my Mami and Papi, who came to this country for a better future, I say gracias. Thank you. Not just for the endless opportunities I have for being born in America, but for the chance to express myself and experience the mutli-ethnic country that is the United States.